


for five years

by aquaticflames



Series: birthplace [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark Has A Heart, kinda..? because tony survived and that's all i need for my heart to be fixed, we walk the line between heaven and hell like a circus tight-rope, yet again no beta lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 17:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaticflames/pseuds/aquaticflames
Summary: The bundle beside Tony stirred, and abruptly sat up.Blearily rubbing her eyes, Morgan Stark took stock of the room, roaming her gaze over each person before locking onto him.Onto Peter.–––title from novo amor's 'oh, round lake'.





	for five years

**Author's Note:**

> this is a direct continuation from _'you made up for my life'_.  
(start with the first fic in the "birthplace" series if you haven't already!) :)

The morning before the end of the world – and, coincidentally for half the universe, the same exact day it was saved – Peter woke up in a New York that was very familiar to him.

The one he returned to from the ruin of the compound _ wasn’t _.

Going back for just a few hours, to drop May off at the Salvation Army with Colonel Rhodes, had been _ awful _.

Peter wasn’t sure what he would have done if Colonel Rhodes hadn’t been there; Initially he’d managed to stay detached from it all, shocked and confused by the ruins that, to him, had appeared over mere days. When they drove past Ned’s old apartment block though, and saw his friend’s light on – with wildly different curtains hanging in the frame – it hit him like a freight train.

Half the universe had died. Ned died, and it was _ five _years ago. May. Sergeant Barnes. The Guardians. Strange.

_ He’d _died.

And that was _ five years ago. _

It was only when his knees hit the seat in front of him, and he felt his seatbelt being hastily undone, that he realised he couldn’t breathe.

“Peter, it’s okay–” He could hear Rhodey’s voice, but why did it sound so far away? “–Take a deep breath. This sucks man but try not to freak out.”

With his guidance, Peter eventually had his breathing back under control, propped up on shaky hands as he leant out of the car for fresh air. He vaguely remembered being helped into the passenger seat, before they were off and quickly leaving the city, heading back upstate.

Peter’s feeble attempt to convince the man not to tell anyone about it was met with a flat stare, so Pepper’s expression and warm hug when they returned came as no surprise to him.

“How’re you doing, Peter?” She braced him with a gentle hand on one shoulder, kind eyes searching.

“Alright,” His brain elected for him to stand there awkwardly and stare at his shoes, apparently. “I’ve been better?”

She actually laughed at that. “I think that’s true for all of us.” And she glanced over her shoulder at the door leading back into the infirmary. “Peter, I don’t want to cause you any more stress, but she’s here. Happy brought her down while you guys were away.”

He didn’t need to guess who Pepper was talking about, and his stomach flipped anxiously.

Their kid. Morgan.

He’d been told about her– practically the second he’d been cognizant enough to properly communicate with everyone. The battle at the compound had taken a lot out of everyone, and Peter could thank his advanced healing for his quickly-mended ribs and concussion.

But yikes, that _ had _ been a shock. Not a bad one, but enough to make his head spin nonetheless.

“Is she okay?” He asked, fiddling with the sleeve of the jumper he’d had to borrow from Tony. Waking up with none of your stuff from five _ years _ ago had caused a lot of chaos for everyone who’d vanished.

Not that he was complaining about the jumper.

“She’s tired.” Pepper’s eyes grew sad for a moment. “Seeing Tony like that upset her a bit, but she’s actually excited now.”

“Excited?”

“To meet you.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that. What _ do _ you say to that? There’s no instruction manual for how to act when meeting someone’s child who didn’t _ exist _what felt like three days ago.

She took his silence well, thankfully, and slowly pushed open the door.

Tony had evidently woken up in the time since Peter & Rhodey left and he was gingerly propped up on his pillows, right arm concealed in its sling. His left was tightly wound around a small figure curled into his side on the hospital bed, whose brown hair spilled across his chest.

Tony grinned tiredly when they entered. “So you survived your trip to New York, then?”

“Ha _ ha _,” Peter didn’t even try and refrain from rolling his eyes. “–And yeah, just about.”

Tony’s smile dropped. “Did something happen?”

“It was… a lot.”

“I’m not surprised. They stuck an ugly field of concrete rectangles right in the middle of it.” That grin was back, and it lifted something in Peter’s chest, making him feel lighter. Before he could form a response, though, the bundle beside Tony stirred, and abruptly sat up.

Blearily rubbing her eyes, Morgan Stark took stock of the room, roaming her gaze over each person before locking onto him.

Onto Peter.

For the briefest moment, he couldn’t breathe all over again.

She looked _ just _ like them.

And then the spell broke, because Morgan untangled herself from the covers beside Tony and scrambled to the end of the bed, pausing. Considering him. That gaze was _ so _ familiar it almost hurt.

“Are you my brother?”

Peter short circuited, all fuses blown to smithereens.

_ Brother…? _

He felt mute. What was he meant to say? _How_ could he begin computing that– the gravity this kid’s words held, and the implications of her question? He’d been dead for five years– _long_ gone before she was even born, before she could walk or talk. He was a _past tense_ to her, spoken of only from the context of memories, if spoken about at all.

What would Pepper and Tony– Rhodey, Happy, and Bruce say? Was it even his place to decide?

And then he looked to Tony; the man who raised her from birth. The firm nod sent his way felt like permission and a _ gift _, all at once. A silent affirmation.

Lightheaded, Peter shuffled forward, scared of startling her. Shattering the calm. “Y-Yeah… I guess so. You’re Morgan, right?”

“Yeah!” She nodded eagerly, all hesitation gone and smile radiant. “Daddy’s showed me all your stuff and you _ have _ to teach me!”

“My stuff?” He glanced up at Tony and Pepper, and the latter broke out of her reverie to hastily answer his quizzical look.

“We kept your belongings,” She glanced to her husband fondly. “–All of it, and _ madam _here couldn’t keep her paws off your old lab projects.”

Morgan’s giggles made Peter’s heart soar. When she scrambled back up the bed towards her father, Peter sank down in her vacated spot, smiling tearily when Tony nudged him with his foot. He rubbed his eyes covertly.

“Sorry kid,” Tony piped up, prominent smile lines framing his eyes. “–She _ did _ steal your prototype web shooters a couple times.”

“Really? What’d you get up to with ‘em?” He tried not to look too eager; Pepper’s fond frown was a _ definite _indication of disapproval.

“Tried to fly!” She bounced on the mattress, excitement flaring. “Daddy said you flew all the time in the city. Wanted to try.”

“I’ll take you for a swing when you’re a little older!”

A unanimous “_ No. _”

Morgan favoured throwing a conspiratorial smile to Peter over giving her mother the time of day. God, Peter loved her already.

“Christ, they’ll tear the house down.”

"Too right, they will."

“The house?” Quickly glancing to Tony, he found his mentor sharing an unreadable look with Pepper. “...What do you–”

“We want you to stay with us.” Tony’s abrupt offering silenced Peter’s thoughts. “–Only if you want to, ‘course. At least until everything calms down, or that school of yours manages to reopen. I doubt they’ll be ready to start up before next year– considering they merged with a local school but _ suddenly _ all their pupils are back–”

“What Tony’s trying to say, Peter,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes. “–Is that you’re _ more _ than welcome to stay with us until you’re ready to get back into the swing of things.”

"He's staying?" Morgan squished her cheeks between her palms, vibrating with excitement. "With us?"

"If he wants to?" Tony raised his gaze to Peter's then, who was shocked to find his usual confident bravado sidelined for something more honest, and hesitant.

"'Course I do." Peter let a smile take over his face, genuine and radiating gratitude. "Thank you _ so _ much."

Pepper waved his gratitude off, standing to heft Morgan onto her hip. "It’s nothing, dear. We'll have to dust off some of your things, but everything's ready. In fact–"

"–And he makes a perfect entrance as always," The doors to the infirmary swung inwards, and someone familiar backed into the room, a cardboard box with 'clothes' scrawled across it in his arms. "Good to see you, kid."

"Happy!" Peter breathed, smile widening further.

"Thought I'd rescue you from that ancient sweater," He jiggled the box in lieu of gesturing to it. "Thank god we kept these."

"What are you saying about my sweaters? They're in absolute perfect condition."

Rhodey's footfalls followed Happy's, and soon he appeared in the doorway. "If you ignore the age-old grease stains, sure."

"Finally, Rhodey."

"Good to see you awake, Tones."

The grasped handshake they shared was firm, and Rhodes clapped his shoulder. "How much longer before he's released, Pep?"

"A day here and bed rest for another three."

"_ Or… _you break me out of here now and we all get to go home?"

Three_ 'No' _s and two chuckles filled the room, leaving Tony sighing in defeat, sneaking a wink to Morgan and Peter.

The day to return to the woodland cabin did come though– or, in Peter's case, stand dumbstruck on the driveway as they unpacked.

"Too small?" Tony pulled up beside him, clearly monopolising the orders to rest and lay off the heavy-lifting. "Expected something more extravagant?"

Peter shook his head numbly. "No it's– ...Cosy. It's perfect."

Tony left him and headed to the front door. "It's only twelve percent my doing, but I'll take the compliment!" He shouted over his shoulder, and Peter jogged to catch up, laden with bags.

Even more unexpected was what awaited him when he crossed the threshold.

"Your room is the second on the right upstairs, Pete." Pepper supplied, trying to wrangle Morgan out of her coat. After a quick sort-through of the bags by his feet, he took his minimal luggage up the stairs–

To a room decorated with his belongings; not just his old laptop and school books, strewn on the desk. His lamp, bedsheets, posters– _ everything _.

This had been _ his _ room. Peter's. For the last five years.

And he hadn’t even been there. He’d been _ dead _ and they still gave him a room in their house– within their family.

If he’d needed a few minutes to himself before giving Happy the okay to bring his boxes upstairs, that was nobody’s business but his.

* * *

That cabin in the woods of upstate New York, housing the most incredible family on the planet, somehow became home.

It had been incredibly difficult at first, assimilating into a world where people had grieved for those who were now living and breathing. On numerous occasions during those first few days, he’d caught Tony or Pepper seemingly zoning out during conversation– something akin to awed disbelief clouding their gaze. Happy told him that the déjà vu had been like whiplash the first time Peter texted him after they all returned, and Rhodey had startled a few times upon seeing Peter curled up on the couch with a textbook.

He felt dreadfully cruel every time the thought occurred to him, but he was somewhat glad that May had vanished alongside him; He didn’t think he could’ve survived _ her _ looking at him like a ghost too.

It subsided for the most part, though– the initial shock fading with every hour that passed and _ 'yep, he’s still here'. _

Morgan, however, was a total anomaly in the best possible way. She looked at him as though he’d hung the stars in the sky and highlighted every constellation, which in its own way had unsettled him at first. He found himself spending a large majority of his time with her as a result though, keen to escape the worried glances and tiptoeing from the adults.

He knew they only meant well, but Morg was more fun to spend time with anyway.

Something small and fast hit his calves and it was all he could do not to topple down the lakeside bank. Chuckling, Peter craned around to look at the cheesy grin plastered around Morgan’s face, a cunning glint in her eye.

“Found you!” She sung, sticking her tongue out and releasing him from her grasp.

“So you _ did!” _ She shrieked as Peter scooped her up from the ground and easily tossed her in the air a few times before setting her down. Every time Peter swung her around Tony looked torn between imminent cardiac arrest and bursting into happy tears– instead opting for a constipated-looking smile before being shooed away by Pepper.

"I want a snack." Morgan said, tugging at the hem of his flannel shirt. "Mummy said I could have a small one before dinner."

"Alright, how do strawberries sound?"

Her glee had him jogging to keep up with her as they headed back to the cabin, and hoping there were some left in the fridge. To his relief, there were a few left in the carton on the fridge's top shelf– the rest squirrelled away by Tony for his smoothies, no doubt– and he tipped the remaining strawberries into a bowl.

"Be careful with that bowl," Peter passed it to a smiling Morgan, who gingerly accepted the food in both hands and sped off to the living room.

He let the corner of his mouth pull up, and affection welled in his chest as he turned back to the now-empty fruit carton.

Peter had never had siblings of his own, and Ned only had a little sister– born when they were starting middle school. He vividly remembered Ned telling him that when she came around, his whole worldview shifted. 

_ 'Sure,' Ned had shrugged, taking a bite out of his sandwich. '–when she's older I'm sure she'll think I'm a pain in the ass. But right now there's nothing I wouldn't do for her.' _

And it had taken a little while for him to see it _ fully _ , to come to terms with exactly what it was– but to Peter, Morgan was another reason to live. A shining beacon of hope, joyful and precious and _ ridiculously _intuitive.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.

"We're going to need some more strawberries!" He called to the house at large, hoping either Tony or Pepper would hear him. He disposed of the empty packaging.

"Are they already on the shopping list?" Tony's voice floated back– sounded like he was in the living room.

He glanced to the fridge, raking his gaze over the drawings and receipts pinned there as he searched for a shopping list. After finding it amongst a sea of miscellaneous fridge magnets, he pulled it free from the magnet keeping it in place and scanned over its contents.

Something dropped from the fridge door and skittered across the floor, startling him. What he recognised as photo paper had been pinned up behind the list, and he crouched down to retrieve it.

It was a picture he'd never seen before.

The photo had two subjects– Peter and Tony. There was only one other photo he'd seen of the two of them, and it sat on the shelf above the sink. Pepper had told him one emotional night, with tears in her eyes, that all it took for Tony to discover _ time travel _ was that photo. 

He'd been a little light-headed after that.

Peter could plainly see why he'd never come across this one though; he himself was fast asleep. They were in the old lab– from before his botched homecoming– in the Avengers' tower, and Peter was drooling over the circuitry he had his face squished into. God, he even remembered the exact project they were working on; a suggestion of his own for the Iron Man suits, a set of defibrillators.

_ Wow _that seemed like a million years ago.

What held his attention though was Tony. In the foreground of the photo, he grinned into the camera as he took the selfie, throwing up a peace sign.

He'd had it professionally printed for his _ fridge _.

Soon enough he heard footsteps heading his way from the lounge; How long had he stood there staring at it, unable to tear his gaze away?

"–Pete, what's up? Did you get lost in the fridge again?"

He glanced up with a start. Tony was leant up against the doorframe, being careful of his sling as he peered into the kitchen, but the sight of Peter stood motionless in the centre of the room made his expression cloud with concern.

Peter swallowed the lump quickly building in his throat. “You have a picture of me? ...On your fridge?”

Everything in Tony seemed to relax all at once; His good hand dropped from where it’d supported his weight against the doorjamb, and he swung over.

“‘Course I do.” His voice held a definite note of relief. “Which one’s that?”

Peter tilted it towards him when Tony pulled up beside him. The man’s snort of laughter brought a chuckle to his lips.

“Classic.” Tony took it from him and stepped forward. Scrapping a few old receipts from the fridge door, he pinned it back up with a spare magnet– a ceramic heart sloppily painted an endearingly violent shade of pink, no doubt Morgan’s from some time in the last five years. He fell back in line with Peter and looked proudly over the picture once more, on full display in a newly-cleared spot on the door.

When an arm was slung over his shoulders, Peter let his head fall to his mentor’s shoulder. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey–! We spoke about that. You saved my ass a _ bunch _ of times out there. None of this ‘Mr. Stark’ nonsense.”

“Sorry,” Peter chuckled, grinning at the flat stare he got for the apology. He shrugged in surrender. “–Force of habit. I’ll get used to it.”

“Good,” Tony ruffled his hair. “And why wouldn’t I have a picture of you on my fridge?” He pulled back and placed a melodramatic hand over his chest, where the arc reactor housing unit still sat, glowing brightly through the sling. “You don’t think I’m domestic enough for sappy fridge photos? Have I _ failed _as a father?”

Peter snorted. “Nah, I don’t… I don’t know what I thought I guess.”

“Well I did... I do. I missed you _ so _ much. It was scarily quiet around here, even _ with _ madame secretary sometimes.”

Peter let laughter bubble up out of him, his smile was so wide his cheeks ached– not that he cared one iota. A warmth had blossomed in his chest and he felt light, elated. 

Hopeful. _ Safe _.

Sure, things were still rocky. Everyone was still recovering– some physically, everyone emotionally– but they would be okay. He knew that now. 

All they had to do was heal. Lift each other up.

And take dumb family photos for the fridge.

* * *

Not long after that, another photo sat proudly beside theirs.

Morgan, her radiant laughter captured mid-frame, as Peter hugged her tightly from behind– Tony fast asleep on the picnic rug beside them.

The dappled sunlight left everything bathed in gold, the lake sparkled behind them, and it was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> god i read this so many times over it felt robotic, so let me know if you liked it :')  
  
i have some idea of places this little series could go, but please do leave prompts or suggestions if there's anything you want to see! ily all ♡


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